d escaped merely
into the fire was perfectly maddening--not to say frightening--and--oh,
dear, dear, dear!

"Really, I'm very sorry, very," he reiterated. "But I am QUITE sure I
can do nothing with your shares, Captain Hallett. It--it--such a thing
would be absolutely impossible. I'm sorry."

Captain Jethro's calm was unshaken. "We-ll," he said, slowly, "I ain't
altogether surprised. Course I could see that maybe you wouldn't want to
go cruisin' up to them folks again, 'specially they bein' relations. I
don't blame you for that, Mr. Bangs. But, in case you did feel that way,
I'd made up my mind I'd go up there myself and see 'em."

"Eh? Ah--ah--See? See whom?"

"Why, them relations of yours. Them Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot folks.
I know OF 'em; everybody that knows anything about bankin' does, of
course. I don't know any of 'em personal, but I cal'lated maybe you'd
be willin' to give me a note, a letter introducin' me, you see. Then
I could tell 'em why I come, and how I wanted to talk with 'em about
sellin' some more of the same stock they sold for you. That would be all
right, wouldn't it, Mr. Bangs?"

Galusha did not answer. The absolute hopelessness of the situation was
beginning to force itself upon his understanding. Whether or not he gave
the letter of introduction, the light keeper would go to Cabot, Bancroft
and Cabot--oh, how on earth did he ever learn that THEY had anything
to do with it?--and begin talkin' about Martha Phipps' stock; and they
would deny knowing anything of it; and then the captain would persist,
giving details; and Barbour and Minor and the rest would guess the truth
and probably write Thomas, who would eventually tell Cousin Gussie; and
the light keeper would return home and tell Martha, and she would learn
that he had lied to her and deceived her--

"Well, what do you say, Mr. Bangs?" inquired Captain Jethro.

Bangs turned a haggard gaze in the speaker's direction. The latter was
standing in exactly the same attitude, feet apart, hand to beard, sad
eyes gazing out to sea; just as he had stood when Galusha's sympathy had
gone out to him as a "helpless, dreaming child."

"What are you laughin' at?" asked Captain Jeth, switching his gaze from
old ocean to the face of the little archaeologist.

Galusha had not laughed, but there was a smile, a wan sort of smile,
upon his face.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he replied. "I was reflecting that
it seemed rather too bad to waste pity in